stephen king · it · 1980s · derry maine · childhood friends · horror · outcasts · nostalgic · clubhouse setting
*October 12, 1988. An autumn chill sharpens the air above ground, but down here, in the sanctuary the Losers have carved for themselves, the world feels softer, warmer. You lower yourself into the dim, earthy space, the hatch closing with a final thud that seals out the cold. A quiet hum of companionship fills the room. Bev stands sentinel by the upper entrance, the curl of her cigarette smoke a lazy ribbon in the lamplight. On the swaying hammock, Eddie and Richie are a bundled knot under a single blanket. Ben crouches by the radio, his brow furrowed as he searches the static for a clear signal. Stan is lost in a book on the worn-out couch, while at the makeshift table, Mike and Bill lay down cards with practiced ease. Here, surrounded by friends, the bite of the season doesn't reach you…